


New Growth

by ddagent



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Post-Canon, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-28 23:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20952215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: Brienne is with child. Now she just has to tell her husband. For JB Week Day VII.





	New Growth

**Author's Note:**

> For JB Week Day VII, 'Winter's End'/'Hope'. This is a post-season 8 fix-it where the only person who really died was Cersei. Also, I am fully aware - unlike some writers - that it's the Citadel who appoints the Grand Maester, so Sam is just a normal one using his connections to get a job he's not in any way qualified for. *coughs* And with that, I hope you enjoy!

Spring had finally come to Westeros. The snow had long since melted; flowers were beginning to blossom. The last vestiges of years of war were washed away as the ice thawed and water ran deep. Across the Narrow Sea, the Dragon Queen held court. In the North, Queen Sansa led her people in new relations with the Wildings. In the South, King Jon built a new Small Council of knights and warriors. And there, in King’s Landing, the envoy from Queen Sansa received news that she was with child.

“Are you sure, Maester Tarly?”

Sam nodded; his assessment clear. Her moon’s blood, whilst never regular, had stopped altogether. Her breasts were swollen; her head sore. The thought of a fish supper turned her stomach when she had been raised on nothing but. Brienne had gone to the Maester in the thought that it was a simple sickness; something with an easy cure. But Brienne wasn’t ill. She was pregnant.

“I, uh, I take it the father is Ser Jaime?”

“_He is_.” As if it would be any other. Jaime was her husband; the only man she’d ever, and would wish to, lay with. “I would like to tell him first, if that’s possible.”

“Of-of course! Believe me, Ser Brienne, I would never—” Sam trailed off; his nerves betraying him. Ser Brienne Lannister of Tarth carried quite the reputation; few would defy her lest she challenge them with the point of her sword. “Let me get you some tea to help with the headaches, and some ointment for your…_you know._”

Of all King Jon’s appointments, Samwell Tarly was the one Brienne understood least. Even her husband made sense as Hand: Jaime had knowledge of the court, the city, and would tell Jon without hesitation if he was going wrong. But a Maester who could not even say the word _breasts _seemed ineffective, to say the least. But he did have some use. Brienne took the offered tea, and ointment, and a list of advice to see her through the early stages of her pregnancy. Nowhere on that list, however, was how to tell the baby’s father when Brienne wasn’t sure whether he wanted a babe at all.

_Best to tell him soon. Sam only has to tell Jon or Gilly and the whole of the Red Keep will know. _

After leaving Maester Tarly’s office, Brienne sought her husband. She found him in the corridors of the Red Keep walking with his brother; her opposite number in the court of the Dragon Queen. Jaime caught sight of her across the courtyard and, when she did not approach, said his farewells and went to her side. In former times, they would have greeted each other with a slight incline to the head, if that. Now, Jaime pressed his hand to her cheek and swept his lips over hers in full view.

“Hello, wife,” Jaime said, offering her a lazy grin as well as his arm. She took it readily. “You know, you really should stop scheduling such early morning meetings. Every time you leave our bed, I find myself stricken with a sudden ache in my chest.”

Brienne smiled; her cheeks turning pink in the cool air. “Perhaps you should see the Maester.”

“Perhaps I will.”

_Now, Brienne. You need to tell him now. _But how? Brienne knew, all too well, the past that shadowed Jaime like the Stranger. Three bastard children and a lover who had lied and belittled him for years.

Jaime mentioned Cersei little; never discussed the events that had driven him from Brienne’s bed to King’s Landing and back again, save to say that justice had been done. And he _had _come back: lighter, stronger; determined to do whatever was necessary to earn back her trust, and her love.

But even now, three moons after they’d wed, Brienne still had her doubts. She worried every day that she would fall short of _her. _The woman had hurt Jaime, _yes, _but he had loved unconditionally for so many years. And their _children. _Would he even want hers? Brienne could not ask him outright in fear of upsetting him, or gaining the proof that she, indeed, would never be enough. But her husband had become quite adept at giving advice in his new role, and Brienne sought it in the guise of someone else.

“One of the Northerners staying in the Red Keep came to me with a problem earlier. She has just discovered she is with child but has yet to tell her husband.”

“Is he not the father?”

“Of course he is!” Brienne bristled. “He’s the only man she’s ever been with, and she loves him. Deeply.”

Jaime frowned. “I fail to see the problem, wife.”

“Her husband sired a number of children before they wed, but sadly they perished in the war. She’s concerned he won’t want more children, as if the new babe would replace his others.” Brienne wet her top lip. “She worries she’s not enough for him.”

Jaime stiffened beside her, quickly dropping her arm to take her hand. He lifted it to his mouth and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “If that’s true, then he would be a fool. Tell your friend that if they married for love, like Ser Brienne and Ser Jaime, then she will _always _be enough.”

“_Jaime._”

“It’s true. You think I don’t know your mind; your doubts?” He brushed some strands of blonde hair from her face; the length longer than she’d had since she was a child. “I love you, Brienne. I have loved you for longer than you know, and that love has not diminished. It has only grown stronger.” His hand fell; Jaime taking in a deep breath. “This actually seems like a good time for us to talk. There’s something I’ve wanted to discuss for a while now.”

“Alright.”

Jaime led them to a bench overlooking the Godswood. Brienne recalled being with him here once before. He was tired and bitter, then; she stubborn and relentless. Now they were married, with her husband openly taking her hand as he addressed her.

“The world is changing. You’re the first woman knight in history, and Tywin Lannister’s son married for love. To that end, we don’t _have _to produce an heir.” Brienne struggled to breathe; the only thing grounding her being the weight of Jaime’s hand holding hers. “Tyrion can have the Rock; you’ve already spoken of Podrick following your lead – I mean, he’s even taken on your vow to protect Sansa. We don’t _have _to have children. But I want them, Brienne.”

_Oh, thank the Gods. _“You want children?”

“I want _your _children. _Our _children! I know I sired three, but they were never mine. I never got to name them; only seemed to hold them when they were dying. I want to be a father; I want to teach our child how to fight and swim and tell them stories about their _incredible _mother.” Tears pricked in the corner of his eyes as he spoke. “Brienne, if you don’t want this, I will understand. I won’t walk away from you; you are the love of my life and I intend to love you until the end of my life. But if you do…have you thought about it at all? Us having children?”

“Jaime, I’m pregnant.”

His eyes widened. “Fuck, that’s quick.”

Brienne chuckled, shaking her head fondly at her husband. “Jaime, I saw Maester Tarly this morning. I’m with child.”

Jaime’s face broke into a wide grin. It softened as he stared at her. “Are you happy?”

In all the worry over Jaime’s reaction, she had given little thought to her own. But she liked the future Jaime had painted for them: teaching a blonde-haired child how to fight and climb; telling them great stories and loving them so utterly, as she had been loved by her father. Brienne placed a hand atop her stomach and the child growing within. “Yes. Yes, I think I am.”

“Good. _Good. _Because you have no idea how happy you’ve made me, Brienne. Every _single_ day, but _especially _today. We’ll have to tell Tyrion, and send a raven to your father. And to the North; surely Sansa will want to make something for the babe.” Jaime jumped to his feet as he rapidly began making plans; the excitement at being a father, truly for the first time, overwhelming. “We’ll need a nursery close to our rooms, and a wet nurse. We should have a feast to celebrate that you’re with child! And a tournament for when the baby’s born. But only after you’re well enough; I want to be in the stands watching you crush knights and soldiers whilst I hold our babe. And then—”

“Jaime, _breathe._”

He sucked in a breath, rushing back to her side. He dropped to his knees and pressed his hand to hers as it rested upon her stomach. “We’re going to have a baby, Brienne. A boy, or maybe a girl. I think I’d like a girl. If it’s a boy, we could name him after your father. Not mine, though. I don’t care what we name him as long as it’s not Renly; I don’t want our son named after the first man that held your heart. And if it’s a girl—”

“Catelyn.”

Jaime drew in another breath. He looked at Brienne’s slightly rounded stomach and then into her eyes. “Catelyn Lannister of Tarth. Lady Stark would be horrified to know you’ve married the Kingslayer, let alone is carrying his cub.”

“I disagree. Married to the man who saved King’s Landing not once, but twice? The man who kept his oath to save her daughters? Who defended Winterfell when he could have easily stayed in the capital? If Catelyn knew you as I have grown to, she would not be horrified.” Brienne leaned forward; running her fingers through the silver in Jaime’s golden hair. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Jaime kept his hand upon her stomach until much later, when Tyrion found them and was informed that he was to be an uncle once more. Wine was poured and names were discussed, and by the time the moon was full in the sky, the King of the South and his Small Council were toasting to the first child of Ser Jaime and Ser Brienne. The first of the sapphire lions.


End file.
